


The best of enemies

by Ceindreadh



Category: The Doctor Blake Mysteries
Genre: Gen, post episode
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-27
Updated: 2014-04-27
Packaged: 2018-01-21 01:45:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1533125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ceindreadh/pseuds/Ceindreadh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set after S2. There’s probably only one man in Ballarat with the power to influence Lawson’s future.  But why should Patrick Tyneman help him?  Mattie O’Brien thinks she has the answer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The best of enemies

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers for S2 ep 9

Because I knew I couldn't write any post S2 fics until I'd 'fixed' what happened in S2ep9.  
Enjoy!

Title: The best of enemies  
Fandom: The Doctor Blake Mysteries  
Author: Ceindreadh  
Type of Story: one-shot  
Characters: Mattie O’Brien, Patrick Tyneman  
Rating: 15  
Summary: Set after S2. There’s probably only one man in Ballarat with the power to influence Lawson’s future. But why should Patrick Tyneman help him? Mattie O’Brien thinks she has the answer.  
Notes: Spoilers for S2 ep 9  
Word count: ~ 2,000  
Disclaimer. I don’t own the characters, I’m only borrowing them, and no copyright infringement is intended.

  
Patrick Tyneman poured a glass of Whiskey and settled himself by the fireplace. His glass was full, his hearth was warm, and later on he’d turn on the television and watch yet another programme sponsored by Tyneman Electric. A perfect evening, he thought as he raised the glass to his lips.

The sudden sound of the door knocker nearly made him spill his drink. He made his way to the door, grumbling under his breath about people who couldn’t leave a hard working man to his well earned rest.  
“Yes,” said Patrick, in annoyance as he pulled the door open. “What do you want? Oh, hello,” he said, seeing a young woman standing there.  
The woman took a step forward into the light cast from the hallway and Patrick frowned slightly as he recognized her. It was that district nurse, the one that lodged with Blake and his housekeeper. “Miss O’Brien,” said Patrick. “What brings *you* here?”

“Mr. Tyneman,” said Mattie, smiling brightly. “Sorry to disturb you, I’m helping with the fundraising for the local youth centre and we’re looking for volunteers to help out.”

“That would be my wife’s area of expertise,” said Patrick, “But she’s not here right now. I’ll have her call you in the morning. If there’s nothing else, then good night.” He was about to close the door when Mattie took a step forward.

“Actually, Mr. Tyneman,” said Mattie, “There is something else I’d like to speak with you about. May I come in? It’s a bit cold out here.” Before Patrick could stop her, she walked past him into the hallway.

“By all means, do come in,” said Patrick, closing the door. “I’m a busy man, Miss O’Brien; I do hope this won’t take long.” He led Mattie into the living room and gestured to an empty chair.

Mattie sat down, glancing around the room as she did so. In all honesty, she hadn’t really expected Patrick Tyneman to give her the time of day, had been sure that he would simply close the door in her face. But she knew that she had to give it her best shot. “It’s about Superintendent Lawson and his disciplinary hearing.”

“That’s got nothing to do with me, Miss O’Brien,” said Patrick. “I can’t say I’ll be sorry to see the back of the man, but it wasn’t my doing.”

“It may not have been your doing, but you could do something about it,” said Mattie. “Everybody knows that you’re friends with the Police Commissioner, and I’m sure he values and respects your opinion. If you were to put in a good word for Superintendent Lawson...”

“And why on earth would I want to do that? The man gives me nothing but trouble, practically every time there’s a major crime in Ballarat, he and his pet police surgeon try to lay the blame at my door. No, I’m sorry, Miss O’Brien, this is a matter for the police to handle themselves. The committee will make their decision and more than likely the Police Commissioner will be appointing a permanent replacement. And maybe *this* time it’ll be somebody a bit more familiar with the way things work in Ballarat.”

“You mean somebody in your pocket?” Mattie wished she could take back the words, even as she said them.

“How dare you!” Patrick stood, “I think it’s time you left here, young lady. And maybe it’s time the district board reviewed your contract of employment.”

“Mr. Tyneman,” Mattie stood her mind working frantically as she tried to think of a way to retrieve the situation. “I didn’t mean to imply anything. I just meant...” She cleared her throat. “I just meant that everybody in town knows that Matthew Lawson is nobody’s man, and especially not yours. They know that if knocks on your door during an investigation, it’s only because that’s where the evidence brings him. And they know that if he doesn’t knock on your door, it’s because you didn’t do it, and not because he’s been intimidated by your money or position. They know that it doesn’t matter who you are, how much money you have, or how friendly you are to him, that he’ll lock you up if he’s got evidence against you. He even put *me* in the cells once. People know that he can be trusted to do the right thing, no matter *who* is involved. And that’s that Ballarat needs...that’s what we all need, even you.”

Mattie could feel her heart pounding as she spoke. It had all seemed so simple back in her rooms. She’d overheard Jean and Lucien talking in the kitchen one evening. The doctor had been berating a system that could remove a man, a good man, from his post for no reason. “He said he’d become ‘inconvenient’, Jean” she’d heard Lucien say. “Police politics” There’d been a pause and Mattie had heard him refill his glass. “I should go down to Melbourne and tell them exactly what I think of their police bloody politics.”

“Lucien Blake, you will do no such thing.” Jean’s voice had been calm, but firm. “You know that Matthew wouldn’t thank you for interfering.”

“Not to mention that I could do him more harm than good,” Lucien had replied. “You’re right of course. I don’t travel in the right circles to be of any use to him. Mores the pity.”

Mattie hadn’t been able to stop thinking about that conversation. The doctor was right; he didn’t have the right connections to help the Superintendent. There was probably only one person in the town who *did* have friends in the right high places to help. She’d gotten out of bed and started rummaging through her psychology text, hoping that somewhere in there was an argument that she could use to sway Patrick Tyneman to her cause. But now, looking into his face, Mattie was hoping that she hadn’t made things worse for Lawson. She tried again, “Matthew Lawson is a good man. I know you and he don’t always see eye to eye...”

“There’s an understatement if I’ve ever heard one,” said Patrick. His earlier flash of anger was dissipating somewhat as he listened to the young woman continue to speak. “Do you realize what you’re asking? You want me to ask the Police Commissioner to subvert the wheels of justice and override the decision of a special branch committee?”

“No, I’m not asking that,” said Mattie, shaking her head. “All I’m asking is that he gets a fair hearing. Look, I know that I don’t know much about police procedures and regulations, and if the Superintendent has broken some of them, then yes, I agree that he should be disciplined. But if this is just some witch-hunt made up to get him out of the way because they don’t like him, how can that be fair? How can that be considered justice.” She took a deep breath, “All I’m asking is that you ask the Police Commissioner to make sure that the committee give him a fair hearing. I know he can’t interfere directly and I know that that’s the last thing that Lawson would want. What he does want, what he’s always wanted, is justice.”

Patrick took a drink from his glass and looked at his visitor as she continued talking. He had to admit that she’d made a pretty convincing argument for Lawson’s reinstatement. And loathe though he was to admit it, Lawson had always played by the book. “There had been that whole deplorable business with Edward,” thought Patrick. “Lawson could have dragged the Tyneman name through the mud, but it was handled with discretion.” He knew that any discretion on Lawson’s part had been more out of consideration towards the victims of his son’s excesses, rather than the Tyneman good name, but the fact remained that Lawson had remained impartial, and had done his job.

“All right,” said Patrick, finally.

“You mean, you’ll talk to the Commissioner?”

“I’m having lunch with him this week. He may or may not bring up the topic. If he does, then I will certainly advise him that justice in Ballarat will best be served by ensuring that Lawson gets a proper fair hearing.”

“Thank you, Mr. Tyneman,” said Mattie, relief evident in her voice.

“Don’t thank me just yet,” said Patrick, “I can only advise him. Whether he takes my advice or not is another matter. Contrary to popular belief, he is *not* in my pocket.” He took another drink from the glass. “I just hope Lawson will be appreciative of my efforts.”

“Oh he can’t know,” said Mattie, quickly. “Nobody in Ballarat can know. If anybody ever found out that you’d spoken to the Commissioner, they’d think for sure that you’d pulled strings to get Lawson back in charge, and then they’d never trust his impartiality again. At least not when it came to you.”

Patrick frowned, “So if Lawson gets reinstated, you don’t want him knowing that he owes it to me? Well what’s in it for me then? Apart from replacing the thorn in my side?”

“You’ll have the satisfaction of knowing that justice has been done,” said Mattie. “And that Ballarat has a good man in charge.”

Patrick snorted derisively, “Oh that’ll really make me feel better the next time he’s giving me grief.” He knocked back the last of his drink. “I’d offer you a drink, Miss O’Brien, but it’s getting late and my wife will be home soon.” He stood and offered his hand to her. “I’m a man of my word. As I said, I’ll speak to the Police Commissioner, and nobody in Ballarat will hear about it from me.”

Mattie stood and shook the proffered hand. “Thank you, Mr. Tyneman, I really appreciate this.”

Patrick let Mattie out through the front door. “Miss O’Brien, have you ever considered running for the local council?”

Mattie shook her head, “No, never thought about it.”

“Good! You’d be entirely too persuasive for your own good. Now let us never speak of this again.” He was about to shut the door behind her when he remembered something. “Oh, and I’ll have my wife contact you about that fundraising thing.” Under the light from the hallway, he was sure he could see her blush.

“Oh, ah,” said Mattie, “Would you mind not? It’s just that the committee felt that somebody more senior should be the one to ask her but I knew she’d be out tonight, so that’s why I called.”

“Hah!” said Patrick, smiling involuntarily. “Good night, Miss O’Brien.” He shut the door behind her and went to pour himself another drink.

\--------------------------  
Two weeks later, Mattie could hear the voices from the kitchen as she hung up her coat in the hall.

“If you want to have your expenses reimbursed,” said Matthew, “You’re going to have to submit them in a legible fashion.”

“Jean, remind me again why I was so eager to have him back,” said Lucien. “Doug Ashby never complained about my handwriting.”

“Oh don’t listen to him, Matthew,” said Jean. “You know we’re all happy to have you back. He was like a bear with a sore head most of the time you were gone. I’m just so glad that they saw sense and reinstated you.”

Mattie smiled, the sounds of laughter from the kitchen following her as she went to her room. It was just a pity she couldn’t write up her encounter with Patrick Tyneman as a case study for her psychology course; she’d have been sure to pass with flying colours. “Ah well,” she said to herself as she switched on the lights. “Better hit the books instead.”

The end

 

 


End file.
